Chick-a chick-a I'mChick-a chick-a onChick-a chick-a myMy, own shitLike an entrepreneur, that stepped in manureMan I'm newer than a Jack I went up the hill with JillAnd Jack Jill's big bootayWe did the booty up, I told the Bitch she Betta Have My MoneyOr step to the AMGYou know Com Sense, oh yeah him beThat nigga that be making all the bid-by-by-bye soundsBut since then, Common calm down!I'm on some calm shit watch Com get complicatedSimple motherfuckers say the way that Com communicatedWas too complex, I got a complex not to complainOn my brain no complain and so will my communityAnd I prefer complimentsSo I complement at an angle, of ninety degreesIt's the nineties, and music got known for the greaseI got a sense of direction and a compassCom passed MC's with no compassion, though I heard the screams ofBut I ain't shy, so why shall I comfort?Com should have been at the fort with Jeff I'm so illBut I chilled in my compartment with no company and no mealsNow Com could get the penny, but I want my own companyAnd Com is on a mission not to work for commissionIt's a common market and it's so much competitionBut to me, competition is noneTo my comp I'm a ton I get amped like Watts in a riotMy compact disc is a commodity, so buy itInstead of competing with PeteCom compromised, Com made a promiseNot to commercialize, but compound the soulWith other elements, compelling sense into Communism